logspot.com www.GOALias.blogspot.com www.GOALias.blogspot ...

www.GOALias.blogspot.com
he had a feeling that he was going to fail again. The cop
looked at the two men.
“I—” said the umbrella man “— that is — you know how
these things happen; if that’s your umbrella, I’m very sorry.
I found it this morning in a restaurant. If you say it’s yours
I hope you’ll—”
“It’s mine!” cried Soapy, with anger in his voice.
The umbrella man hurried away. The cop helped a lady
across the street. Soapy walked east. He threw the umbrella
as far as he could throw it. He talked to himself about cops
and what he thought of them. Because he wished to be
arrested, they seemed to believe he was like a king who could
do no wrong.
At last, Soapy came to one of the quiet streets on the side
of the city. He turned here and began to walk south toward
Madison Square. He was going home, although home was
only a seat in a park.
But at a very quiet corner, Soapy stopped. Here was his
old childhood home. Through one window, he could see a
soft light shining. That had been his living room, where he
had spent many happy peaceful moments. Sweet music
came to Soapy’s ears and seemed to hold him there.
The moon was above, peaceful and bright. There were
few people passing. He could hear birds high above him.
And the music that came from the room held Soapy there,
for he had known it well long ago. In those days, his life
contained such things as mothers and flowers and high
hopes and friends and clean thoughts and clean clothes.
There was a sudden and wonderful change in his soul.
He saw with sick fear how he had fallen. He saw his
worthless days, his wrong desires, his dead hopes, the lost
power of his mind.
And also, in a moment, his heart answered this change in
his soul. He would fight to change his life. He would pull himself
up, out of the mud. He would make a man of himself again.
27
The Cop and the Anthem